


Professor Malfoy and the New Herbology Professor

by noodly_elephantbear



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Drama, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Professor Draco Malfoy, Romance, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:15:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28792293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodly_elephantbear/pseuds/noodly_elephantbear
Summary: Muggle-born orphan, wizard adoptee, and Herbologist extraordinaire, Lilla Fledgling (age 20) is the youngest Professor ever at Hogwarts. But, soon after her arrival, she meets the smouldering potions professor, Draco Malfoy. He's suffering from a curse which requires getting a rare flower. Luckily for him, Lilla is one of the few people in the world who can help. A side effect of the curse? Increased lust and libido. Lilla must navigate her feelings, her passion, and her profession to help the dashing and sexy Professor Malfoy return to normal.Notes: set 7 years after the war (Malfoy is 25). A sloww burn. Chapters updated (mostly) every weekend. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it!
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/OC
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter updated weekly! I don't always edit them, so there might be typos. Thanks for reading!

I smoothed the front of my robes nervously for what felt like the hundredth time in 30 minutes. I took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of pumpkin juice and roast ham. Inside the Great Hall of Hogwarts, senior students were raucously laughing while timid first years looked on. This was, after all, the Start-of-Term feast. This year, however, I was sitting at the professors table because after 12 years of homeschooling, I was the new Herbology Professor.

“Lilla! How are you feeling?” Professor Ibis, the recent Defense against the Dark Arts hire, whispered into my ear rather loudly, nudging my elbow. Without waiting for a response, he prattled on: “I remember my first day here as a professor. I was so nervous but just wait until you start teaching. Now, don’t worry about mucking up your introduction, you’ll do fine.” I chuckled nervously but was saved from mustering up a response as Headmistress McGonagall began her address. 

Distressed by the worries running circles in my headspace, I nearly peed myself when McGonagall said my name … “and now, introducing the new Professor of Herbology, Lilla Fledgling. She joins us as the youngest hire ever and as a muggle-born. She is an expert in the field of Archaic Trees and received instruction from the Hogwarts Alumnus Professor Herbert Fledgling, author of Legendary Herbs and Where to Find them. Professor Fledgling will make a thrilling addition to our faculty here at Hogwarts. I trust you will welcome her new tenure here! Would you like to say a few words, Professor Fledgling?”

My mouth was drier than the Sahara desert. “Uh, ah, um, yes, I would…” I gulped and heard a slight chuckle a few seats down. I glanced over and saw a young man, blond with a mischievous smirk dancing on his face. “Yes, I, uh, am pleased to join Hogwarts and I look forward to teaching and engaging with uh… the student… body”. I sat down quickly to a polite smattering of applause. Professor McGonagall ended her address and the feast began. 

With a blush warming my cheeks, I surreptitiously glanced at the man who laughed at me. To my chagrin, he caught me looking at him and raised an eyebrow. His light, almost silvery hair contrasted his fox-like eyes, which were large, expressive, and tinged with sadness. The hollow cheekbones and a shadow of a beard suggested that work took priority, but the sharpness of his features and jaw complemented his rugged appearance. I gulped again, but this time, from self-consciousness rather than anxiety. This was not the time to be checking out hot colleagues, I chastised myself. Quickly, I was drawn into conversations with the less attractive, much older professors by my side and ate plate after plate of the feast. In no time at all, I felt warm and relaxed, sipping on slightly spiked pumpkin juice (only for the adults) and eating pie.

\-- 

The feast had gone on for many hours before McGonagall shut it down. It was nearing midnight and the students had slowly trailed off to their respective dorms. Meanwhile, I seemed to be wandering the same corridor somewhere between the third and fourth floor. An annoying renaissance couple in a portrait kept twittering everytime I passed them on my different paths. After I saw them for the seventh time, I admitted to myself: I was lost. 

I heard the sound of footsteps approaching behind me. ‘Thank God’ I thought, as I spun around, only to see the handsome blond professor from before. The magically lit torches cast moving shadows upon his gorgeous face and transformed his silvery hair into buttery chocolate tones. He walked like a jaguar, finely tuned, graceful moments that conveyed power. “Good evening. Seems like we both enjoy taking an evening stroll”, he said with a hint of smile as he approached me. 

“Oh, that’s right. I am here because I want to take a stroll, not because I’m lost”, I replied and a bemused smirk sprouted on his face. He took a few strides ahead, gesturing for me to follow him. “Don’t worry, I know how confusing the corridors are. Often, they do it on purpose to deceive the new students. You look young enough to be one.” 

I settled on a comfortable pace next to him. “I’m actually 20 years old!” I said indignantly, raising myself to my full height. Which, unfortunately, was still a full head shorter than him. I sighed internally, noting that I shouldn’t get myself into height feuds with actual tall people. “Oh… that’s good”, this mysterious professor replied. Startled and curious, I glanced up at his side profile, fixating on his full, pink lips. “Er, wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought that if you were any younger, the male students might take… liberties with your position”, he clarified.

I laughed in disbelief: “That is definitely not happening. Most of the students won’t even realize that I’m here.” He looked at me doubtfully. 

“Anyway”, he started and stuck out his hand, pausing in the hallway. “I’m Draco Malfoy, but I’m sure you know that”. I slipped my hand out of my sleeve and slid it across his open palm. His pale hand was rough, contrasting his elegant, slender fingers. He gripped my hand firmly, but warmly and I let my hand linger a second too long before pulling away. 

I looked up at him again. “Am I supposed to know who you are…?” I asked hesitantly. Maybe Professor Malfoy was famous for his good looks or groundbreaking research in potions. I wasn’t the only person staring at his features during the feast: many students were openly glancing at his face, whispering to their neighbours and bursting into giggles. Was he going to tell me that he was the centre of adoration of all the students? 

“Wait. You haven’t seen my picture in the papers before?” He shaked his head. “Well, my reputation is absolute rubbish… but rightfully so.” Professor Malfoy grimaced. “I’m known for being the puppet of … well, Voldemort, the archenemy of the Golden Trio, and hater of muggles and muggle-borns”. He began walking again, somewhat quicker and now, ahead of me. 

‘Bollocks!’ I mentally kicked myself as I ran to catch up. 

“I mean, I have seen your portrait in The Daily Prophet, but that was from more than 5 years ago and in person, you look much…” HANDSOME, my internal voice helpfully screamed. My other thoughts argued back: SEXY or DELICIOUS would be much more accurate. “... much different” I trailed off. He looked at me with a bit of surprise and slowed down. 

“But then why are you talking to me then?” I asked. “I’m a muggle-born. And to be honest, I know nothing about the wizarding world”. 

As it happens, I was also a bit of a wizarding world oddity, although no unflattering portraits of me were ever plastered across the papers.

My biological muggle parents left me at the footsteps of a pub, of all places, when I was a wee babe. The only thing they left was a note: “Cursed.” I must have shown a bit of magic even as a baby. At least, that’s what my adoptive dad told me. In his own telling, he was a wild, untamed, childless (and strikingly good-looking) herbs researcher who found me upon leaving pub and drunkenly decided that I was to be his child. Thus, I spent the next 19 years of my life following my dad across frozen tundras, vast deserts, and swampy rainforests in search for legendary herbs. I found love in the pursuit of herbology and decided to follow in his footsteps. Dad spent decades teaching Herbology at Hogwarts, his alma mater, and I decided to apply after acing 14 NEWTs when I was 15. My application was denied year after year… maybe I was just a bit too young?

An unfortunate side effect of spending months to years wandering the corners of the earth is that you maintain very little human connection. Or any connection, really. I completely missed the conflict with the nasty evil muggle-hating wizard, really had no idea until I returned to civilization earlier this year and read snippets in the Daily Prophet. I also had no idea how to interact with wizards and witches of my own age; I was much more comfortable studying the variegation of leaves or the secret languages of ancient forests. These thoughts were flitting in my head as I looked down at his shoes walking beside me. ‘You can’t be horny for a muggle-born hater’ I thought to myself. ‘Or could I?’ my less righteous side suggested. 

“I’ve changed.” He had his hands in his pockets as he walked, which was just a bit cute. “It’s been 7 long years since the war. I spent 5 of them working to repair the damage that I was responsible for and a few years ago, they summoned me here to teach potions. All the students hate me already and if they don’t, I’m sure they will once they find out who I am”. His shoulders slouched a bit. I was skeptical… did he really think that the students were looking at him because they disliked him? As a thirsty young adult, I suddenly felt more camaraderie with the students than before. 

Suddenly, we stopped.

“We’re here.” He gestured to an unassuming brown, round door. I tore my eyes off his face and looked at the entrance to my chambers. He had guided me back to my room without me even noticing it. 

“It’s late. Have a goodnight, Professor Fledgling”, Professor Malfoy looked down at me. I whispered a goodnight as he spun and quickly walked away. 


	2. The Kiss

“ENOUGH!” I yelled as I slammed my hands into the table. My first day teaching herbology to a cohort of first years from Gryffindor and Slytherin was not going as expected. First, some Gryffindor brat named Snivel or Nigel in Gryffindor had tricked a small Slytherin student into eating dirt. Then, a fight broke out and knocked my precious variegated philodendron into the ground. I finally snapped when a bunch of their pet toads that they sneaked in escaped into MY greenhouse.

“I may be new here, but if you don’t follow basic rules, you will NOT have a good time here. I can promise you that. 10 points from Gryffindor for making your classmate eat dirt, Snigel. And an additional 5 points for each student involved in the fight. I don’t not care who started it” 

The first years looked at me mournfully. Snigel or Nagel whispered “my name is David…”. I cut him off with a sharp glare. 

“Class is dismissed for today”, I declared resolutely. “If you have any complaints, I’m sure headmistress McGonogall would love to hear of it.”

Once they were gone, I slumped over the head of the long wooden table that sat in the center of the greenhouse. In my excitement to explore the ancient trees of the Dark Forest (known as the Forbidden Forest to students), I forgot about the part of the job that I was actually being paid to do: teaching. Those little brats, I fumed. I won’t let them disrespect the wonders of flora and fauna.

A sharp rap on the glass entrance broke me out of my fog of annoyance. I wondered who had made the muddy walk over in the chilly September morning. A tall man opened the door and stepped in. I couldn’t see his face because he was wearing a hood, but immediately, I knew that this was Professor Malfoy. 

“Hello, Professor Fledgling”. His voice came out strained, tense even. He looked like he was in pain, slowly trudging over to me. I ran over to meet him halfway. Under the hood, his complexion was unhealthily pale and his eyes almost bloodshot.

“Are you alright?” I asked, putting a hand on his forehead. He flinched. Embarrassed, I took a step back -- drat, I thought, maybe normal people didn’t do that. 

He took a step near me, shaking his head. Slowly, he forced out the words: “I wouldn’t be here like this if it weren’t for an emergency. You see, I’ve run out of corpse flower powder and I wondered if there would be any in your stockpile”. 

“Of course! I suppose you’re looking for the powder version, but I only have dry petals. Let me fetch it for you”. I quickly walked over to my personal supplies. The corpse flower was one of the rarest and most endangered plants in the world. It was only to be found in Indonesia and took up to a decade to bloom. Luckily, I had obtained a few seeds and petals in my travels and brought them to my newest occupation.

Once in his hands, Professor Malfoy took out a small glass test tube. Inside gurgled dangerous-looking tar black liquid, releasing angry bubbles every few seconds. He popped off the cork holding this mysterious potion captive and let a small petal fall inside. A hiss of green steam welcomed this petal into the mix. 

I watched with fascination, which turned into horror as I he brought the test tube to his lips and quickly gulped it down with one swallow. To my chagrin, I became fixated on the skin over his Adam's apple and the veins on his neck swelling. Something about that was incredibly hot. 

“I owe you, Professor Fledgling”. He held my gaze and exhaled unsteadily. I nodded. His colour was slowly returning to normal, but he still looked as if he were about to collapse at any given moment. 

“Do you need to lie down for a bit? There’s a bed in my office”. I gestured at the back door. He raised an eyebrow at me and I blushed.  
“I plan on taking naps there sometimes” I laughed nervously. If possible, he looked even worse, like he might faint in that spot, which wouldn’t do because I had to teach the next batch of second-years in twelve minutes. I grabbed his hand, which felt cold and clammy, and practically dragged him to my office. 

Kicking some of my notes to the side, I cleared a space to lead him to the bed. My office was sparse with a desk, chair, and small bed behind the bookshelf. I had my personal prized plants whom I named Thomas, Linguini, and Benjamin. My notes on my latest research was embarrassingly strewn everywhere, including all over the bed, where I sometimes reviewed them. There was a small window next to the desk and I drew the curtain closed. 

“Here, sit”. I gestured to Professor Malfoy towards the bed. Once seated on my tiny bed, he looked younger. More vulnerable, now that he wasn’t towering over me. At this point, I felt incredibly self-conscious. Here I was, in a room alone with a man, who wasn’t my dad, for perhaps the first time ever. Worse, he was sick and I had already checked out his bulging neck veins countless times. Strangely, Professor Malfoy didn’t seem uncomfortable with me around. I groaned internally: ‘Of course. None of this is new to him, only me’. 

I took a deep, shaky breath to calm myself. Walking over, I grabbed the closest thing to sit on, a wooden stool, and moved it close, but not that close to him. He looked dazed, as if he wasn’t sure how he got that. But I was more concerned about his breathing, which seemed ragged and irregular. I moved my hand to his forehead slowly, to check his temperature. Upon my touch, he shivered. A deep longing swallowed my body and my throat felt dry. 

Professor Malfoy held my gaze. His half-lidded eyes contained shimmering pools of silver and made me feel like I was trapped. Slowly, he leaned in until his delectable, soft-looking lips hovered just over mine. I had never wanted anything more. The last millimeter of space hung between us like a silent question, posed to only me. 

I moved in. At first, he languorously explored my lips with a delicate touch, but I moaned softly, opening my lips. It was like a switch flipped. His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me onto the bed. I kneeled on the bed, sandwiched between his legs and arms, wrapping his neck and head with my arms. 

We moved synchronously, his lips and tongue eagerly exploring new intimate places. Shy at first, but learning from him, I began to copy his moves. I bit his lip tentatively and then a little harder. He growled affirmatively, grabbing my hair and forcing my neck to crane up. His lips moved over my exposed neck and I moaned, embarrassingly loud. Every sound I made seemed to turn him on more and one of his hands began to delve underneath my robe.  
Malfoy pulled my legs around his hips. I sat over his crotch and he began to grind slowly, making me gasp and writhe in desire as heat took over my lower torso. His hands were lingering on different places on my back, testing out which places were the most sensitive and pleasurable. Before long, he found my bra and slid his cool hands over my breasts, massaging them gently. 

Every touch felt like a new world unravelling itself in front of me. I felt myself coming undone at his kisses and roaming fingers, losing rationality every second that I was held under his spell. This couldn’t be right: passionately snogging my colleague in my office, especially while he seemed sick! Plus, I had a class in a few minutes. Oh. Shit. I had a class in a few minutes.

With a gasp, I broke away from his lips and body. His eyes widened in shock. 

“Merlin. Did I just…?” He looked more surprised than I did, quickly drawing his hands away from me, leaving cold, empty places where they had previously been held. Before I had time to say anything, he gently but firmly pushed me off of him. Malfoy leapt off the bed and briskly walked to the door. 

“I… I’m sorry”. With this, he turned on his heel and left my office. 

\--

So, I sat there. On the bed, mouth agape and wondering what the hell just happened. Did I do something wrong? That was my first steamy makeout session and he just stormed out. Did he not like him back? Was kissing me that repulsive? The more I thought, the more upset I got until I felt pinpricks tingling at the back of my eyeballs. 

Oh shit, Lilla, DO NOT CRY, I warned myself. Of course warning myself did nothing. Even though I had thoroughly enjoyed my makeout session with Professor Malfoy, it seemed like he didn’t care in return. Ugh, what was I thinking? Not only was he sick to the point that he needed to drink that nasty concoction, I pounced on him in my own office.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. My sadness transformed into rage and I had an urge to break the legs on the wooden stool. This stool betrayed me. I could have just sat there, being a kind and patient caretaker, but no. I had to crawl into his lap and… grind on him. I sniffed, feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and frustratingly, horniness dwell in the pit of my stomach. Great, I thought glumly. He’s never going to want to date, or even makeout, with someone who was basically a hormonal teen.

Slapping my hands on my face, I stood up. I had another herbology class to teach. I might be a hormonal teen, but I was also the youngest ever Hogwarts professor. Striding over to the small mirror, I checked my hair and my face to see if it looked like I had been crying. 

My mouth, recently closed, dropped open again. My hair looked like a hurricane had visited for lunch and left in a rage. It stuck out in places that I had never seen before. My face was flushed and rosy, enough for the slight puffiness in my eyes to be less noticeable. But worst of all, halfway on my neck was a prominent, dark, and splotchy hickey. Bollocks. 

I craned my chin up and studied the mark on my neck. It looked like a miniature truck had run into the side of my neck. How sharp was Malfoy’s teeth? My fingers probed the area around it. The hickey felt tender and throbbed slightly. This was my only evidence that I had a kiss with him and he had left just like that. My eyeballs felt tingly again. 

Pulling out my wand, I cast a temporary concealment spell on the hickey. I patted my hair down until it looked more like a pine tree than an oak tree. I stared at myself intensely in the mirror, issuing a challenge. Go out and make this class amazing. Don’t pine after hot, but asshole-y men. Focus on your work. And never kiss Professor Malfoy again.


	3. The Agreement

Over the next few days, we played cat and mouse. Strangely, I was the cat. Every time I caught a glimpse of him, he fled as soon as he could. When we chanced upon each other in the hallways, he would veer off into an adjacent corridor. When I looked for him in the Great Hall during meals, his chair would be conspicuously empty. It wasn’t that I was intentionally trying to find him, but seeing him avoid me hurt. I felt aggravated, wondering exactly what I had done so wrong for him to go out of his way to not see me. 

My eyes followed the shape of anyone who looked like him, even though their faces would betray who they were. Twice, I found myself wandering the hallways close to the potions classes, but stopped myself before I got there. More and more, I wonder what I was doing. At the end of the week, I resolved to put this matter under the rug. I could be an adult and pretend nothing happened, but for that to work, I needed to discuss this with him. And really, I was annoyed that he was avoiding me to this extent. 

\--

“Hello”. I knocked sharply on the wooden door of the potions ingredients closet. No response. I knocked again, but was greeted with silence. That’s strange. I knew that Professor Malfoy spent most of his Tuesdays between third and fourth period organizing the potions cabinet… I found this out from strategically eavesdropping on some fourth year girls.

I turned the knob, expecting it to be locked. But it opened with ease and at the corner of the long closet, filled with jars, bottles, jugs, and cauldrons, there was the man I was looking for. Scanning him, the memories of our kiss returned to me and my cheeks started radiating heat. He was crouched down, writing on the label of a small jar. 

“Excuse me”. With a jolt, he realized that I was at the door. Stepping in, I said what I had rehearsed in my head for days: “Hello, Professor Malfoy. I know that you were sick the last time we saw each other and we shouldn’t have done… what we did. But I don’t think you should avoid me. After all, we’re colleagues and I want our relationship to continue as such. And besides, it’s not like the kiss was that big of a deal. I, uh, I do it all the time!” 

As my mouth continued to derail from the carefully thought out script, my internal panic alarm was going off. What was I saying? I do what all the time? If I could slap myself in the moment, I would. I kept rambling and staring at anywhere in the closet except for those seductive grey eyes. Finally, my pent up nervous energy ran out. I kept my eyes glued to the floor. 

“Lilla”. I looked up. He was standing a respectful distance away from me. My cheeks seemed to get even hotter once I realized that he had used my first name. It sounded so good coming from his lips. 

“First of all, please call me Draco. I would prefer for us to address each other as friends, if possible. Secondly, I apologize. For approaching you when I was unwell. Also, I apologize if it seems like I have been avoiding you. The truth of the matter is that I am still unwell. Very few people know.” He looked at me ruefully. He spoke slowly and deliberately. I couldn’t doubt his sincerity. 

“You said that you kiss your colleagues often?” He cocked an eyebrow at me, barely suppressing a smirk. He was definitely making fun of me. 

“No, that’s not what I meant! But, I mean, it’s not like you’re my first… kiss….” I glanced back at the door and found that it had swung shut after I entered. I looked at Professor Malfoy who took a step closer to me. He had hung his robe by the door and was only wearing a t-shirt, perfectly framing his chiseled upper body and arms. His arms were lean, but with clearly defined muscles. Subconsciously, I licked my lips.

“Ahem.” He nodded at me to catch my gaze, stopping me from very obviously checking him out. He had a smile dancing across his lips, letting me know that he knew exactly what I was doing.

“I’m glad that our encounter was not your first experience.” He smiled gently at me and I blushed again. He probably thought that I was a seductress, making my way through the willing men across my travels, but nothing could be further from the truth. Still, I’d rather he think I experienced than a blushing virgin.

“No, of course not. How could that be my first? At age 20?” I scoffed. For the first time, I was grateful that I had my first kiss when I was 10. It was at a beach in Siberia. The waves sent freezing sprays of water intermittently. Along the coastline, huge snowballs stretched across the horizon. It was there that my childhood friend had proposed to me and kissed me. My first kiss, age 10. Little did I know that my second kiss would be 10 years later. It seemed like a faraway dream by now, but at least I could truthfully say that this wasn’t my first kiss. 

Sidestepping Malfoy, I began scanning the various containers neatly organized by specimen, colour, and smell on the shelves. Frog’s eyes, weeping willow cotton (1284 years old), spleen of a dragon. I had no idea what each one was meant for. Potions was never my dad’s strong suit and I seemed to have inherited this trait. On exams, I was excellent, of course, but my practical aptitude was rather lacking. 

In the corner stood an empty little jar. It’s label read “corpse flower powder”. I picked it up, turning it in my hand. Corpse flower powder is notoriously difficult to handle, but it seemed like every particle had been scraped from within. This is what Malfoy had visited me for. I glanced at his face, trying to read his expression. He appeared calm. I wondered if that black concoction in the beaker wasn’t a one-time treatment. 

“What are you doing with this?” I was curious. There were few known uses of corpse flowers besides stink bombs (it smells horrid). With their propensity to grow slowly in only one region in the world and how useless they were thought to be, most potions inventories didn’t even carry it.

He grimaced slightly, enough for me to know that he was actually very bothered. He sighed, taking the bottle from my hand.

“I use this as an ingredient in a potion that I’ve created myself. Unfortunately, I’ve run out of my supply. That’s why I asked you for some last week. It’s very difficult to procure, even with my connections.” He paused for a second.

“I was cursed this summer. Until I find how to break this curse, I have to drink the potion every week. One of the side effects of the curse is increased libido.” He looked me directly in the eyes.

Oh. My entire face flushed. I understood now. That’s why he kissed me. As part of his curse, he felt an urge to jump the nearest creature near him. Well, that sucked. Although I was resolved to sweep this under the table, I had retained a small seed of hope that he liked me too. 

“Usually, I take care of it myself. As I had been without the ingredients for the potion for almost two weeks. I was near delirious when I entered the greenhouse. My conduct was entirely inappropriate”. 

He takes care of it himself? How? Oh my God, he was talking about wanking. Where did he do it? Here, in the potions closet? How often did he have to do this? Malfoy saw my bewildered expression and laughed. 

“Of course it was more pleasant with your company, Lilla”. He was back to smirking. Drat his mischievous grin and delightful, delicious lips. I kept getting distracted by his taut forearms and biceps flexing subtly.

“I-I could help you,” I stammered. “I mean, with getting corpse flower powder. I had some petals left in my reserves. Probably enough for a couple weeks. In that time, I can try growing my own.” 

Malfoy stared at me. “You can grow a corpse flower here at Hogwarts? The rarest flower in the world?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Of course you can. You’re Lilla Fledgling. Youngest professor at Hogwarts and expert in rare flora and fauna”. His eyes became hopeful. I realized that he must have despaired over the lack of control, slowly succumbing to the curse. I wasn’t even sure what the curse entailed, but if he was willing to drink that nasty potion weekly, it must be horrible.

I had to help him. He was suffering and I was confident that I could grow the plant, even increase its speed of bloom. As I watched him, another idea grew inside me. I couldn’t… I mean, why not? I had to take this chance or we’d just remain as colleagues. 

I slowly inhaled. “I could help you in the other way too. I mean, with your increased libido. We could schedule it and you know that I have a private space. I mean, in my greenhouse. At the back. The office and… the bed”. Damn, Lilla, I mentally rebuked myself. Today, horniness won against my rationality.

To my chagrin, he laughed. He held out his hand. I stared blankly at it. Did he want me to give him money? For allowing me the benefit of doing naughty things with him?

“Let’s shake on it, Lilla. I’ll gladly take your assistance on both counts. The ingredient as well as any potential intimate encounters. Maybe we can avoid “scheduling” it, as you call it.”


	4. The Plan

Oh, that’s what he meant. I slipped my fingers into his outstretched palms, relishing the feel of his hand. I suddenly realized that it was more than his avoidance that bothered me. Every day, I had been feeling a low ache in my stomach and at night, I tossed and turned. Grasping his hand, the back of my neck warmed and tingles traversed across my spine. 

Last time he had made a move on me while delirious, but it was I who felt out of control now. I moved in closer to him. The tension between us crackled, like the anticipatory silence before the cacophony of fireworks. I slowly reached out my hand holding the empty jar and placed it on the shelf behind him. My arm gently rubbed against his, nothing more than a delicate touch. 

He stared down at me, breathing heavier than usual. I could tell that he wanted me too. Using my last leap of courage with a heavy dash of horniness, I placed my hand on his neck and pulled his face down to meet mine. I felt his neck tense under my grip and he resisted at first, but melted into my touch like water meeting water. When our lips met, I was shocked. I didn’t think I’d make it this far and having little kissing experience, I didn’t know what to do.

Thankfully, Malfoy responded to my lead with intensity. Sneaking his arms around my waist and cupping my head, he controlled the tempo of the kiss with ease. Like our last encounter, his lips were soft and delicious, interspaced with gentle licks and sharp nips on my bottom lip. Breaking away, he whispered in my ear: “I’ve wanted this since your office”. I shivered, moaning “me too”. He tasted like wintermint under my probing tongue. His lips teased and suckled, roaming between my neck, ears, and lips. His tongue rolled around my left earlobe before nibbling his way up on the cartilage. My hands travelled up and down his back, feeling his back muscles tense under his thin t-shirt. Scratching his upper back with my nails, he moaned and pulled me even close into him. I felt his bulge grow hard and nudge against my stomach. While I focused on kissing his neck, the fingers that I thought were so elegant had settled on my bum. Malfoy gently massaged each cheek, alternating between gentle caresses and hard squeezes. 

Oh, shit. No one had ever touched me there, like that, before. Meanwhile, Malfoy thought I was an experienced vixen. I inhaled and pushed on his chest a back, breaking us apart. His hands travelled up to settle comfortably at my waist. 

“What’s wrong?” He looked concerned and his eyes, usually mysterious, were gentle. I wanted him to take me, to touch me in places unseen. But I wasn’t so overcome with my lust that I wanted my first time to be in the potions closet, where I could see the empty bottle reminding me that Malfoy didn’t have feelings for me. He was only taking whatever he could get, while acting within his ethical boundaries. Besides, there was a slimy green worm floating in liquid in the corner of the eye. I filed away lustful encounters in the potions closet as a possibility for future breaks.

“I have to go back to teach”, I replied shakily. This was true enough. I had lost track of time and the kids were probably wondering where I was. “I’ll bring the remaining petals I have to your office, before dinner”. I pushed away from him with my hands on his firm chest and smiled at him. 

This time, it was me who left without another word. 

\-- 

Poring over my Teen Witches! magazine, I thumbed the worn pages and reviewed the advice columns. Malfoy wanted me for my green thumb and perhaps as a bed warmer. Instead, how could I grow his feelings for me? In times of need for romantic and sexual advice, I did what I knew best: return to my trusted tome, my sage, the definitive issue on teen love from Teen Witches! that I carried in all my travels. 

My dad is very open about his romantic pursuits. I’ve lost count of how many witches and muggles he’s had his eyes, and more than eyes, on. Even more numerous were his talks about safe “intercourse” and using charms and potions as protection. Regardless, I was not going to write to him for counsel on how to make the hot professor who I might be sleeping with fall for me.

Teen Witches! on the other hand was brilliant. It was known for being sexually frank and liberal, doling out helpful advice that fathers were simply unequipped to do. I went to the page about friends with benefits: “Do not show signs that you’re interested in him… Wizards love the pursuit and mystery of a twinkle-eyed lady. You may not be a veela, but by showing your unavailability, you instantly become more desirable. This, my darling witches, is called playing hard to get. Signed, Leila”. I read this aloud. I read it again. Right, so playing hard to get was out of the window, seeing as I had hunted him down and propositioned him in his own potions cabinet. 

Next page: “for those engaged in what is known by muggles as Friends with Benefits, do not, under any circumstance, profess feelings for your magical partner. While you may think this is a good idea at the time, are you willing to risk your friendship for a short-lived romance based on sexual attraction?” Alright, this was also completely useless. I groaned, flipping through my textbook on attraction. Most of these situations didn’t apply to me. There was only one useful part: instructions on how to brew a potion to ward off unwanted childlings, repel curious fairies, and protect against transmittable curses and diseases. 

It required mugwort, muggle hazel, and sprouts of the midnight sun. Easily procurable ingredients, I brewed several drafts for me to take in anticipation of any future encounters. Hopefully, Malfoy wouldn’t stumble over them since I placed them on the floor in the corner of my office.

\--

Carefully packaging the remaining petals in an airtight pouch, I asked a student to bring the pouch to Malfoy’s office. Did this count as playing hard to get? Out of the way, I brought my attention to what I loved most, even if Malfoy’s eyes were becoming a serious contender for my number one favourite. 

I bought out my notes from my travels and the precious few seeds from the corpse flower or its latin name, amorphophallus titanum. I giggled at its name, which meant misshapen giant phallus. Malfoy’s own phallus, I hoped, would be giant, but not misshapen. “The plant’s inflorescence (the cluster of flowers) can grow to over 3 metres in height, 5 metres wide, and 6 metres tall”. 

I eyed the ceiling of the greenhouse, calculating its height. While it would fit the flower, its width posed a problem. Also, my notes confessed “it reeks to death. Reminds me of sweaty socks, feces, rotting meat, and cheese from Limburg”. I wouldn’t be able to prevent its reek from affecting the students in my class, though I doubted the smell would be worse than some of the pubescent individuals.

It would have to grow in the Dark Forest, I mused. A shiver ran through my spine at the thought. Nervous and excited, the Dark Forest (or Forbidden Forest to students) was the real reason I came to Hogwarts. Some of dad’s most exciting discoveries had been found in the Dark Forest. It was coveted by many herbologies and explored by few. Intrinsically dangerous but tantalizing, the vegetation had undergone some of the most intensive transformative magic for centuries. With the presence of magical beings and beasts such as centaurs, merpeople, unicorns, and banshees, curiosities in plant life occurred frequently in the forest.

My dad confided in me that although his discoveries numbered over 100, he felt as he had only touched the surface of possibilities. Inside the forest were trees, tree networks, spirits, and more, waiting for me to enter and discover their existence. 

I would have to obtain the permission of the headmistress and groundskeeper, whose name I recall was Hagrid. Plus, the corpse flower plant would require a special location with specific measures to ensure its livelihood. Regional to the warmer climate of Indonesia, a skilled witch would have to ensure a continuous humid rainforest environment to grow the plant. All of this would have to be done without disturbing the natural vegetation of the existing forest.

My plan: enter Dark Forest, plant corpse flower, bloom a near-extinct, 6 metre tall plant. All within a month. What could possibly go wrong?


	5. The Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I didn't update last week! But I'll upload two chapters this week. I'm working on making them a tad longer. Thanks for reading :)

Sharply rapping at the gigantic door of a wooden hut, I mulled over what my first words might be to the groundskeeper. It was Saturday morning and without any classes, I had ample time to begin my plan. With a hefty creak, the wooden door swung indoors and there stood a man far larger than he had any right to be. 

“Hullo, wee lass. What can I do fer yeh?” He smiled down at me, not unkindly. Glancing over his physique, I realized that he might be half-giant. In my travels, I had met a few giants and some were even friends with dad. A few out in the Scandes mountain range were quite nice, if not the most intelligent. I guessed that Hagrid was around 12 feet tall, which easily more than doubled my own height. He had clearly just gotten up, as he was wearing a tent-sized fuzzy bathrobe and holding a cup of tea, which was large as a small cauldron. I gulped nervously. The problem with giants was that they weren’t the brightest. You needed to cajole them into what you wanted. But Hagrid seemed far more intelligent than even the brightest giant that I had met, Grawp. Rather, he resembled the smaller-than-normal, bright giant from my travels.

“Hi. I’m the new herbology professor, Lilla. Headmistress McGonagall told me to have a chat with you if I wanted to enter the Forbidden Forest?” I spoke louder than I normally would, figuring that the distance in our heights would make it quieter for him up there.

“Aye, Lilla, is it? I’m Hagrid, the groundskeeper. Yer lookin’ a bit youn’ fer a prof. Must be a clever one. So, Forbidden forest? A lass after my own 'eart. Say, I was just about to do some explorin’ in the forest. Yeh can come with me now, if yeh have time”. I nodded in agreement. Perfect, I mused, I could get started on my project right away. I had yet to tell Malfoy about my plan. It’s not that I didn’t want to, but I had been swamped with teaching and perhaps a bit too nervous to casually approach him again. I could only muster up enough courage for one closet dalliance per week. 

“Give me a secon’”. He let go of the door and stepped inside. The door slammed shut loudly, blowing a gust of wind that knocked me back a few steps. I heard loud rummaging noises and a few barks, peppered with what sounded like chirps and growls. A bang and a few curses (not the magical kind) later, Hagrid came out holding a brown rucksack slung over his shoulder and a bright yellow knitted beanie. 

“Follow me closely.” Hagrid gestured and we began the short walk across his pumpkin patch to the entrance of the forest. I had trouble keeping up with his pace. By the time that we had gone in far enough that most of the light had been blocked by the tree tops, I had tripped several times over snarled roots poking their heads out. It didn’t help that once in a while, Hagrid would veer off sharply and mutter to himself “Could’ve sworn I saw her coming this way… maybe the other way...haf’ta feed her befor’ she gets too hungry”. I did my best to follow him, but I was just as distracted as he was. 

I was quietly overcome with joy. Here I was, venturing into the ecology of my dreams since I was 11 years old. Ever since dad had told me about the Dark Forest, I had wanted to visit. To find out that only Hogwarts staff and students in detention (they didn't know how lucky they were!) had access was disheartening, to say the least. But now, I finally made it. I could smell the rich fragrance of moist soil behind my feet, nourishing the plants of the forest. The sprouting fungi and moss greeted me, spread across the roots and branches of deceased trees. It felt like the trees themselves were talking to me, murmuring to me in their ancient language as they rustled above my head.

Ecstatic, I was fully immersed in the presence of the forest. So fully immersed, in fact, that it took me a while to realize that Hagrid was no longer in sight. I scanned my surroundings carefully, believing that a lumbering half-giant would be easy to spot. He was even wearing what was essentially a traffic cone on his head in the shape of a knitted yellow hat. After surveying a full circle, I realized that I could not see anyone. 

I sighed. This could be troublesome. With my survival skills, I was reasonably confident that I could live here for 2 weeks, although with some level of discomfort. However, the magical beasts that roamed the forest may not take kindly to my presence. Best case scenario, they would tolerate me and perhaps alert Hagrid to my location. Worse case scenario, they would decide that I was intruding in their territory and attempt to violently eject me from their land. 

Almost habitually, I patted my robe pocket and was comforted by my wand. After getting lost too many times with dad, I realized that I had to bring my wand with me whenever I went. I pulled it out and whispered “orbis partem”, casting a spell that projected a small holographic compass, pointing out which direction Hogwarts was likely in. I was pretty proud of this spell as I had made it myself. 

Alright, it wasn’t great that I was now in the Dark Forest alone, for my first time without solid bearings of the land. But nothing could diminish my feelings of satisfaction and jubilance of the forest. I had a general sense of where to go to return. Now onto the main mission of why I was in the forest in the first place: finding the perfect place to grow the corpse flower. 

With my wand out, I began to tread in what appeared to be a promising direction. In my mind, I mentally reviewed the list of criteria for growing the corpse flower: warm and humid environment, relatively free of insects, isolated to avoid trampling, and no magical interference from the plants since I needed to cast a protective bubble. Oh, adding one more: must work with any magical beast politics. While the foxes, deers, and maybe even unicorns would be more amenable, I had doubts about the thestrals, werewolves, and especially the hyper-intelligent centaurs. 

I even heard an urban legend about a roving car that could fly, but that sounded like utter bollocks. Regardless, I’d keep an eye out for it as I had no wish to get steamrolled by a car in the forest of all places.

While trekking through the forest, I began to sense a presence following behind me. I couldn’t tell if it was malicious, but I figured that it was either revealing its presence to me on purpose or too unskilled to cloak it. My experience in tracking and following was not at an expert level, but I had enough training to be wary. I pretended to ignore it and ducked behind a large bush after a few minutes. I held my breath as I heard the steps approach slowly, in what sounded like confusion. It was a man and it certainly wasn’t Hagrid. 

Better safe than sorry, I jabbed my wand into the bush in his direction and ejected a stunning spell. 

“Ahh!” I heard a cry as he seemed to fall on his butt. ...Wait, that voice sounded familiar. Peering over the bush, my mouth dropped to see Malfoy sitting on his arse on the ground of the Dark Forest. I stood up quickly from my crouched position, feeling equal parts embarrassed and miffed that I stunned my crush who happened to be (poorly) following me.

“What are you doing here, Professor Malfoy?” I walked over and offered my hand. He grimaced and took it, standing up and wiping his hands off on a handkerchief. Seriously, who carries handkerchiefs around anymore? 

“That was a hell of a stun, Lilla. And please, call me Draco” 

I was not amused: “Tell me why you were following me, please”. I was secretly glad to see him, but if I had felt any danger from his presence, he would have been hit by much more than a stunning spell. 

“I often come into the forest to restock ingredients for the potions classes. I saw a lost young woman and decided to observe her at a distance. It has been told mirages appear here, sweetly luring you to death.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Would you care to tell me why you are wandering in the Forbidden forest, with nary a guardian in sight?” 

I huffed indignantly, “I don’t need a guardian!” I paused, but sighing. “Well, alright, I was here with Hagrid, but I seem to have lost him. Besides, I can take care of myself” I gestured vaguely at him, referencing the interaction from mere seconds ago.

He groaned, “Of course, Hagrid. He’s overly infatuated with the acromantula colony’s leader, Morag. I will have to chat with him when we return” Malfoy looked into my eyes: “It’s dangerous here, Lilla. I believe that you can take care of yourself. But it’s different in the Forbidden Forest. Terrors lurk here in, cloaked by the darkness and magic of the grounds. I know from experience”.

A shiver ran down my spine. Partially because I didn’t realize how much danger I had been putting myself in, but realistically because his low murmurs and gravelly tone made me feel tingly inside. My cheeks reddened, as they always did around Malfoy, and I felt as if a magnetic force was drawing me closer to him. 

“I was looking for the right place to grow the corpse flower. I believe that an isolated location in the forest would be its best chance for making it bloom.” 

Malfoy nodded. “I suspected as much. Well, since you’re doing this on my behalf, please do arrange future visits to the forest with me. I can help you”. He leaned over and offered his elbow. I looked at it in confusion. 

“Despite being so smart, you’re awfully daft sometimes.” Malfoy chuckled and gently grabbed my hand, threading it through the crook of his elbow. He began to guide me in the original direction of my walk, off to find the right place to grow the corpse flower. I suppose as far as things went, a walk in the Dark Forest was my perfect type of first date.


	6. The Swamp

With Malfoy escorting me, I admit, I did feel safer. With my hand resting on his bicep, I wondered if it would be too obvious of me to squeeze it to feel his veins ripple underneath my arms. Tentatively, I gave a small squeeze. He looked over at me, questioningly. I avoided his gaze by looking at a tree.

“Lilla”. Malfoy started. “I want you to be aware that I have… less restraint than I normally do today. It is the last day of the cycle before I brew the next week’s draught.” 

My mind raced. He was telling me that despite the curse’s side effect of increased libido, he could normally keep in under wraps. But, now with me, alone in the forest, Malfoy had less control than usual. Without meaning to, I licked my lips. 

“Oh, okay. Good to know” I replied. 

We walked into a clearing in the forest. Flanked by trees, a small swamp bubbled and hissed sporadically. Every bubble burst released noxious mustard-coloured fumes into the air, followed by a pungent reek of sulphur. The plants near the edges of the swamp had given up on living near the bog, curling into itself. The trees themselves seemed to shy away from swamp, looking for greener atmospheres.

“This is perfect!” I gushed.

Malfoy looked at me apprehensively. “This odious swamp is the most suitable location for growing a flower?” he questioned. 

“Not just any flower, but a corpse flower, Malfoy. Tsk tsk.” I felt as if I could comfortably joke with him now. “It will take a bit of fixin-uppin’ but there’s nothing some tender love can’t fix”. Malfoy still looked doubtful. He took a small whiff and covered his nose with another handkerchief, produced from his other robe pocket.

This boy clearly did not spend much time outdoors. I should’ve known from the paleness of his complexion that he had avoided the sun. As long as he didn’t suck my blood, I was fine with that. I did want his lips on my neck as he did before, though. I explained:

“The corpse flower smells incredibly terrible! Trust me, I know from first-hand experience. With the smell of the swamp masking the scent of the flower, we have a smaller chance of bothering the local residents of the forest. This size of the clearing will definitely work. Naturally, the natural environment of a swamp leads to an alkalinity unsuitable for the vegetation…”

I trailed off realizing that I had begun to delve into Herbologist details and stopped myself. People other than my dad seemed to get annoyed at me when I did that.

“No, go on. This is quite fascinating.” Malfoy smiled at me gently. He was listening intently. 

I smiled. “Basically, the swamp will be perfect if we can put in some elbow work.” 

“You’re the expert. I leave it to you”, he answered. I was thankful that he had so much trust in me. It wasn’t rare that people, especially men, doubted my knowledge and experience. It was only when they realized who my dad was, then recognized my years of hard work and contributions to the field.

“Alright, let’s just make sure that there aren’t any swampparts hiding out in this swamp”. I whispered “lumos” and the end of my wand tip shimmered with light. Swampparts were the cousins of boggarts, shapeshifting fear-creatures. While boggarts have no relation to bogs, swampparts were more accurately named, as they lived in swamps. 

Swampparts weren’t harmful really as they only transformed into your third worst fear. They weren’t always successful either. Third worst fears tend to swap places with your fourth and fifth worst fears. Swampparts aren’t the best at ordering fears so sometimes you can see them visibly give up and return to the swamp. 

“Would you like to be the one who does the honour or shall I?” Malfoy gestured with his wand out. I pointed to him. The process wasn’t difficult.

“Alright”. He began to trace a pattern in the air and firmly declared “revelare”. The bubbles began to rise and pop rapidly before a small head poked itself up. It looked rather like the Japanese kappa with its green skin and large ears.

The swamppart hissed at us and began to transform. Before it could decide on a form (this could take up to 15 minutes), Malfoy yelled “Go away!”. Startled and confused, the swamppart yelled and scampered into the distance. It could find another swamp easily. 

See, the process is easy. The forms I’ve seen from cleverer swampparts in the past include a floor of broken eggs, losing my dad in a crowded wizard alley, and a letter returned from sender. I would rather not find out if my fears have changed over time. Especially in front of Malfoy.

“Great, thank you”. Malfoy was proving to be useful already. I flicked my wand in a triangular motion and said “bullis protegare” to cast a protective bubble around the swamp. It would need to be recast every few days, unfortunately, for this level of protection. From my pouch, I removed a tightly bound lump of dirt, and within it held the sprout of the only corpse flower growing outside of a small rainforest in Indonesia. Next, I took out a small potion in a beaker. A fizzling current of electricity swirled the indigo navy liquid around. Stooping down, I poured the potion into the swamp. Lastly, I swung my arm up and flung the sprout towards the center of the swamp. It hit the surface with a “plop!” and began to slowly sink it. 

“That’s it!” I triumphantly declared as I smirked. Wow, I was so proud of myself.

“Is that all?” He asked with a bit of confusion. “All it needs is a swamp, potion, and shield”. 

Oh, the sweet summer child, cursed with the lack of magiherb aptitude. The swamp was a perfect political neutral ground. The potion would control the temperature, alkalinity, oxygen flow continuously while ensuring that the swamps biodiversity and surrounding ecology was not harmed. Lastly, the protective bubble would prevent errant hooves, paws, and feet from trampling, control temperature and humidity, basically ensuring that it would succeed. 

“It’s a bit more complicated than that” I said and laughed.

“What are the chances that it will sprout?” Malfoy. 

“Of course, there’s always a chance of failure with growing life.” I responded. “I’m confident that it will grow. In fact, it has already sprouted. But, to make it bloom into a flower is another story. It needs to feel confident enough in its reproduction capabilities, while fully thriving, not just surviving, in a foreign environment. Grow, about 90% chance. Bloom, depends on several factors, but at least 50% chance”. 

“You’re truly something else.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Would you care for a quick stroll out of this swamp and into somewhere far nicer? I know just the place”. I nodded, curious. He smiled and grabbed my hand.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--smut warning--

After a short walk, we arrived at a beautiful sunny meadow with lush grass and flowers. A large tree stood in the middle, as if guarding the meadow. Upon stepping in, the air felt several degrees warmer and the sun grazed my face. It felt calm and peaceful, unlike the swamp we just came from. 

“Someone magically enchanted to be warm?” I asked.

“It could be, but I have reason to doubt that. I believe this is the forest’s own magical capabilities that created this meadow.” Malfoy replied. 

I was amazed. If true, this could be a splendid finding for the forest. It could even begin to change its reputation from a moody, dark forest to one with mysterious properties. 

He pulled my hand and led us into the meadow. Like a perfect gentleman, he took off his robe and laid it on the grass so that we could sit on it. I felt my heart flutter. 

Sitting down together, I was hyper-aware of his thigh resting against mine. I could feel the heat and firmness of his thigh, pressed into my side. He lightly bounced his knee against mine. I bounced back in response. He grinned at me and I felt like I was flying. I took my hand and placed it on top of him, squeezing my hand and smiled at him. 

Leaning in slowly, he began to close his eyes and turned his face. I felt myself mirror his actions unless we met, right in the middle. Our lips slowly touched before we began to kiss passionately. With open mouths, our tongues explored each other’s lips. I bit his lips fiercely, even possessively. He responded aggressively, moving his arms and hands to draw my waist in closer. I moved in, sitting in his lap again, arms cradled around his head. 

I wanted to get as close as I possibly could to him. Squirming and moaning, I wriggled my bum closer and closer to his crotch. I rubbed my ass back and forth in the seat of his lap as he grasped my ass with both hands. The bulge of his crotch started to stiffen. He moaned and threw his head back in pleasure. I slithered closer and licked the veins of his neck from bottom to the top. Malfoy growled at me and when I tilted my chin up to expose my neck from him, he left a series of bitemarks and hickies as he travelled around my neck and ear. 

He took off his shirt, letting my hands roam around his chiseled pecs and abs, feeling the firmness of his muscle bound by the softness of his skin. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, showing me his desire. Our eyes met and I could tell that his lust was spilling out of his tightly-contained cage. He couldn’t hold back for much longer. I was ready, not only with my protective potions, but also for Malfoy to take me. I wanted to experience new pleasures for the first time.

He gently held the sides of my shoulders and slowly pushed me onto the ground. Lying on the face, I saw the unlit side of Malfoy’s face, eyes brimming with desire a few inches above mine. Malfoy hovered over me and panted. I felt a fierce burn for something, anything, to soothe the ache in my lower regions. 

With seasoned experience, Malfoy disrobed me. He peeled my shirt off and his hands cupped my boobs under the bra. Murmuring “Merlin, you’re gorgeous”, Malfoy pushed my bra cups up and found my nipples. His elegant fingers began to slowly tease, twisting and pinching as I shivered and squirmed. Malfoy was a musician and I, his instrument to play. His warm tongue began to trace lazy circles around my taut nipples, while breezily leaning in to kiss me on the neck and chest. The warm heat in my lower region grew steadily until I began lifting my hips, desperate to feel anything. Meanwhile, he had pushed his leg in between my thighs, moving it against my clit. Reaching down, I took off his pants and after, he took mine off. Except for our underwear, we were naked and extremely horny. 

“Ask for it, darling.” He whispered while staying perfectly still, despite my writhing on what felt like a rock-hard large cock. I moaned and tried to pull him down and into me, but he resisted with ease. I whimpered, looking at him with widened eyes. I couldn’t believe that he was making me say it clearly when the only thing separating us was my flimsy panties and his underwear. I could feel the heat of his cock pressed into mine, firmly but also without moving.

“Tell me what you want.” Malfoy said seductively, nibbling at my ear. It was clear that he wasn’t going to budge until I overcame my embarrassment to beg for it. This way, he was also sure that I would be a willing, enthusiastic partner. 

Haltingly, I began: “I want this” as I reached down and cupped my hand around his hard member. He rocked his hips once into my hand and my face flushed. I could feel the outline of its bulbous head, leaking precum, and length of it down my hand and wrist. How was this going to fit inside me?

“Where do you want my cock?” He growled in a low voice, next to my ear. Increasingly horny and desperate, I looked at him in embarrassment, but I knew exactly what I wanted. I had prepared mentally for this moment for weeks and I was ready.

“I want you inside me”, I whispered. The last thread of willpower almost audibly snapped. His hands found my inner thighs and pushed them firmly down, opening me up. Malfoy’s lip hovered over my pussy and before I could register what he was doing, he pushed my panties to the side and began to slowly lick and tease my clit. 

“Oh my god” I moaned audibly. His fingers began to probe the area around the pussy lips and delved into the inner region slowly. I would have felt self-conscious if the pleasure wasn’t incredibly powerful, sending waves of alternating lust and pleasure rocketing through my body. Malfoy clearly knew what he was doing as he expertly played with my pussy, licking, pulling, teasing, and probing. His fingers roamed into me until he found my g-spot as my spine arched up.

“What was that?” I questioned and he laughed in response. He began to increase his speed, pumping his fingers in and out of me, hitting my sensitive spots. I felt him doing incredible things with his tongue that I could not even describe to you. My sensations grew and I knew that I was close to coming as my thighs squeezed him. Suddenly, he stopped. 

“Not yet, darling. You can come when I let you.” He said sweetly with a hint of mischievous in his eyes. I groaned and felt the absence of him inside me, as my pussy clenched. I could feel how wet I was down there as I dripped onto his robe. Malfoy pulled down his underwear and my jaw dropped. Despite my inexperience, I could tell his cock was larger than average. More than that, it was pretty which I didn’t think was possible. It was pale with blue-green veins tracing its way up. 

Positioning himself over my pussy lips, he looked at me and I nodded. He slowly moved his hips in and I felt his member spreading me open, using my own juices as lubricant. His cock slid in and I felt his firmness fill me up and touch unseen places. Malfoy was intently watching me, responsive to my every gasp and moan. Once he was fully inside me, he stilled as if waiting for me to adjust. I panted, still hanging at the edge of my orgasm from before. 

I pulled his face down to kiss me and he began to thrust in me rhythmically. Hooking my legs around his back, his large cock hit my g-spot over and over and over again. I could feel myself unravel at his cock working its magic inside me and I came undone, my spine arching and feet curling into the grass. He moaned and murmured “I’m almost there too” as he picked up the pace, thrusting quickly into me as I rode my orgasm. 

With an audible moan, he pulled out of me and his cum ejected ropey strings onto the bottom of my belly and across my breasts. Pulling out yet another handkerchief, he carefully wiped the cum away. I was still near-delirious, hovering on the high of my first orgasm from sex when it came crashing down with a single question. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin, Lilla?”


End file.
